Of Vulcan Bondage

by dstrekharrylover

Spock and Christine go on an away mission to a planet run by women. The populace is peaceful but extremely hedonistic ... and the leader develops a fatal attraction to Spock. Some OC's herein.

2. Chapter 3 & 4

three

The last thing either Spock or Christine wanted was for the mining rights on Sapphira VII to hinge on whether or not he gave in to the planetary leader, but neither had been able to come up with any feasible alternatives, so they had to go along with Spock's original plan.

It wasn't something they were looking forward to, but they had had to do many unpleasant things in the course of their work. This would be particularly unpleasant for Spock, at least in one sense, and for Christine in another. Neither believed in casual sex. Rather, they believed it should only be with someone one loved—and preferably was married to (and in the Vulcan's case, bonded with). She would be hard-pressed to enjoy her time with Pietro, knowing Spock was in Sapphira's clutches.

-------------------

They rose early the morning of the third day, around 0600, and did the usual things, showered, dressed, and groomed. Upon finishing up, they simply shared the sofa and talked as they waited for 0700 to arrive, mainly about innocuous things like what to have for breakfast and such—but what made it memorable was the fact that he was holding her (and vice versa). All too soon, she sighed in disgust as she noted the time.

"It's almost time for breakfast. We'd better get moving."

Spock got up first in order to help Christine to her feet; she spoke again when they reached the door curtain.

"I still don't like the idea of the mining rights hinging on your submitting to Sapphira. I wish we could have thought of another way to accomplish the mission."

"As do I," was the reply. "But we must make the best of it."

He raised a hand to her cheek, looking deeply into her eyes as she covered his hand with hers and squeezed it. He did his utmost to convey warmth and reassurance to her through the warm velvet of his eyes, giving her strength to make it through the ordeal ahead.

-----------------

Spock headed for the kitchen upon their stepping outside the apartment. Christine watched until he disappeared through the door before joining the other women. Sapphira glared at her again, but didn't say anything. It made Christine feel better to know that while Sapphira might have Spock's body in a couple of days, she herself would have his heart and mind.

Breakfast was served half an hour later, and as Spock fed her, all was right with Christine's world because he was near her once again. She looked at Sapphira out of the corner of her eye, which made Spock follow suit, then back at him. He shook his head. They approached her upon finishing the meal.

"My Lady, I would speak with you on a matter of great importance," Christine announced.

Sapphira's eyes narrowed and her manner was wary. "And just what is this important matter?"

"You know that Spock and I are from the Federation ship Enterprise and are here to discuss mining rights for your dilithium and pergium."

Sapphira's reply was cold. "I promise nothing until the two weeks are past. Is there anything else you wish to say?" Her green eyes stabbed through the two Starfleet officers.

"Yes," Christine said. "I wish to offer for Pietro."

There was a long silence before Sapphira spoke again. "Indeed? And just what makes you think I'll allow you to have him, even temporarily?"

"Because I've decided to let you offer for Spock in exchange."

The other woman thawed instantly. "Very generous of you, Lady Christine. When may I have him?"

The lascivious look in Sapphira's eyes as she gazed upon Spock turned Christine's stomach. For Heaven's sake, she was practically drooling!

"In two days' time at planet-dawn."

"For how long?"

"Until the dinner hour."

"Is that also when you wish to have Pietro?"

"Yes."

After another long silence, Sapphira summoned Pietro to her side. He had been cleaning the table behind him, his gaze locking with Spock's as the women discussed exchanging their slaves for half a day.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Lady Christine has offered for you. You will report to her apartment at planet-dawn two days from now, and remain with her until the dinner hour."

"Yes, My Lady."

Pietro marveled that this incident was actually happening. He couldn't remember the last time Sapphira had willingly released him to another woman, even temporarily. The half-alien Spock must cast a powerful spell over women to have them speak so.

Christine knew that Spock had already made plans for two days hence, but had to make it look good in front of Sapphira. "Spock, you will report to Sapphira's apartment in two days' time at planet-dawn, and remain with her until the dinner hour."

"Yes, mistress."

"I trust you will take care of Pietro," Sapphira said.

"And I trust that you will take care of Spock." Christine's voice held a bite that the other woman didn't miss. "I shall expect his safe return at the dinner hour two days from now."

"He will be returned safely," Sapphira promised. "You have my word on that."

Christine didn't trust her, but couldn't show it. "As will Pietro. You have my word on that."

And so the deal was made, albeit reluctantly. Christine could imagine the things Sapphira would come up with to make Spock do for her in order to torture her as she supposedly had Sapphira the first night here. And Heaven only knew what she would subject Spock to when they were alone! Meanwhile, Christine intended to make the most of her time with Spock over the next two days before she had to relinquish him. It was an idea she disliked intensely, but something she could do nothing about. She could only hope that Pietro would be able to help her forget, if only for a little while.

----------------------

After dinner that night, she and Spock were again sitting together in each other's arms on the living room sofa. Her head was cradled on his shoulder and he rested his clasped hands on the curve of her waist. After a time, she looked up at him and smiled. It was hard to believe that anyone could have felt such happiness and contentment. How could they have waited so long to be together like this?

He sensed her feelings and observed, "Something is troubling you, Christine."

"Just thinking of how long it took us to reach this point. We have so much time to make up for."

The Vulcan could not dispute her, so he simply said, "Indeed," and left it at that. They were quiet for several moments, savoring the other's presence, before Christine spoke again.

"Spock, you said that Pietro told you what happens when a man refuses Sapphira."

He stiffened, prompting her to give him a look of mixed concern and question. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know what he told you."

"It is not pleasant," he warned.

"It's not pleasant having to let you go to her, either," Christine countered. "Tell me."

Spock sighed and began, arms tightening around her as he repeated all that Pietro had told him about Sapphira. After he answered Christine's question about whether or not the planetary leader had any children (the Vulcan answered negatively), she voiced her thankfulness that that was the case.

"Thank God. At least there won't be any more like her here. Not any time soon, anyway. Someone like that should be sterilized in the same manner as the unfortunate man who refused her."

"It would not change what happened to him," Spock pointed out. "And paradoxically, Pietro also said that her men were well treated as long as they did not disobey her."

"But God help anyone who does," Christine remarked. "Which reminds me—how long has he been her favorite?"

"Three years."

"May that be considered unusual?"

"Indeed. Pietro says that her favorites rarely last more than a year or two."

"How many has she had?"

"Ten, I believe."

"Who's lasted the longest?"

"Pietro."

"The shortest?"

"Someone named Alain, for six months."

Christine shook her head in bewilderment. "With her looks, she could have any man she wants. Why punish the one who didn't want her?"

Spock sighed. "I have no idea."

Christine raised her hand to his face and stroked his cheek, then the couple shared a brief but tender kiss. Upon separating, she told him, "I bet you're glad I'm not like that, after all the years you've kept me at a distance. I could have destroyed you for it a long time ago, if I had been."

The Vulcan gave his companion a half-smile and nodded. Around 2300, Spock noticed that the hour was late and suggested they retire. After the nightly rituals, they changed into nightclothes and got into bed. He positioned her spoon-fashion against him, arms around her from behind as he allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep-trance with his head resting on her back. Christine smiled, covered Spock's hands with hers and fell sleep herself. It was in this manner that they spent the rest of the night.

--------------------

It surprised Christine that Spock could have so easily fallen into the Sapphiran pattern of behavior after only three days...at least up to a point. But he was as attentive to her as ever, and even though she occasionally caught women giving Spock the eye, deep down she was glad that no one else had had the courage to offer for him. She had enough to worry about with Sapphira! They were switching partners this one time because there was no other way to accomplish their mission and still come out in one piece.

Spock had also told her about Pietro's background. The large man (6'4", 225 lbs. or 102 kilos), was half-Human as he was, but it was his father who had been Human...an Italian named Guillermo, and his mother an Argelian woman named Elyssea, which meant "bringer of Paradise" in her native language.

Pietro had been born and had spent most of his life on Earth. His parents and sisters had moved to Argelius after he had left home, but after his father died, he had also moved to Argelius to look after his mother and sisters until they married.1It was there that Sapphira had found him, having come to Argelius looking for a new lover, offering such a slave price for him that Pietro had been unable to refuse her—mainly because it would keep his mother and sisters in comfort for years to come. It was lucky for him that it had been so, particularly when he learned what had happened to one hapless male who had dared to refuse.

He also found that her men were well-treated as long as they did as told, which made him feel better. All the same, Pietro made a note to himself to never give her reason to be displeased with him if he could help it, lest he suffer the same fate as his unlucky comrade. For the most part, however, his temperament leaned more toward his Argelian mother than his Italian, Human father. Christine was sure he would serve her well, if only as a friend.

Physically and emotionally speaking, she didn't want anyone but Spock, but it was better to be with Pietro, occupy herself with him, rather than climb the wall wondering what Sapphira was doing with Spock—much less speculate on what she might make him do in front of her. Perhaps they could speak of each other's lives and backgrounds, make small talk about one another's family, friends and such. Until then, she had to get through the coming day.

------------------

Christine had made a point of learning all she could about Spock and his background upon realizing that she was in love with him, hoping the knowledge would be useful to her at some point. So far it hadn't been, but now that circumstances had changed, there might be a chance. She knew what a passionate people the Vulcans had once been, and that they had turned to logic and mental disciplines in order to control those passions.

Of course, there were times they went too far, such as Kolinahr, the discipline in which no emotion whatsoever was allowed. Surak's philosophy was strict and exacting, but because of it, Vulcan had the enviable distinction of being one of the handful of planets in the Galaxy with virtually no crime or violence, except in the Mating Time. This was the time in the life of every Vulcan male when he had to release the ancient passions which had built up in his body because of emotional suppression by joining both physically and mentally with a bondmate.

It was necessary in order to survive the part of his life when his emotions were all but uncontrollable and his logic virtually ripped from him. Without the bonding, and therefore some control of the male by the female, the violent sex which would end the pon farr was nothing less than rape. It was hard for Christine to imagine the always-gentle Spock doing such a thing, even knowing what had happened the first time around. It would probably be another year or two before it came upon him again, provided his dual heritage and immersion in Kolinahr didn't alter the cycle's frequency or length.

She could only hope that she would be chosen as Spock's bondmate between now and then, so that she would be in a position to help him, learning how to deal with his Times and what they compelled him to do. She also hoped to be able to call upon his mother for an explanation of how to handle him when the Times came. It would also have helped if she could have had Amanda to see her through her present difficulty, but she didn't, so she would have to muddle through as best she could on her own.

---------------------

Spock was gone when she awakened, having left before dawn to keep the rendezvous with Sapphira. Pietro was the one who awakened her. She could tell that he found her attractive simply by the look into his eyes. He was undeniably attractive himself, but he would have been easier to appreciate if Spock hadn't been so much in her heart.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly when she was fully awake. "What would you like me to do for you today?"

He had also wanted to call her "mistress" in private, but Christine instructed him not to, because Spock didn't. She also told him that Spock usually combed her hair after her bath. She didn't want to hurt Pietro, but it seemed unavoidable. Hiding his disappointment, he waited for her in the bedroom, making the bed while she bathed and dressed. He combed her hair when it came time, and to her surprise, even said he could fix it if she liked.

Christine smiled and nodded. "Yes, of course. I usually have to do it because Spock doesn't know how to do hair."

Once both were ready, they left her apartment and headed out...Pietro for the kitchen, Christine for the Women's Pavilion. She felt depressed enough knowing that Spock would not be with her without Sapphira flaunting him in front of her. Christine also didn't care to think of how he had probably spent the last couple of hours.

She caught a glimpse of Spock as the men brought in the food. Their eyes met briefly, but he couldn't speak to her, so he simply gave her a reassuring (if apologetic) half-smile. Christine forced back tears and made herself smile at Pietro as he brought her breakfast and began to feed her, occupying herself with him as much as possible, but unable to tune out the other woman's smug voice.

"I will say one thing for you, Lady Christine. You have excellent taste in male slaves. Spock pleased me immensely this morning; he is everything you said he was. Even Pietro does not have the stamina Spock does."

Every word drove the knife deeper, but Christine dared not show how much she hurt. Sapphira didn't deserve the satisfaction. She also intended to ask Spock for a full report of what had happened during the twelve hours of their enforced separation. The other woman was so busy extolling the virtues of her temporary slave that she didn't notice both Spock and Pietro glaring at her, directing looks of concern at Christine's large, sad eyes. Sapphira had all the subtlety of the proverbial ton of bricks!

The Vulcan went over the last two hours in his mind as he fed his temporary mistress, recalling how he had been ambushed upon stepping into Sapphira's apartment. He had instinctively fought her, having been taken by surprise, but in the end, had given in (at least temporarily) as he recalled what Pietro had told him about what happened to a man who refused her. Even at that, it was necessary for him to come up with a viable alternative—and when he did, he believed his solution most ingenious.

Once her guard had been lowered, he gently nerve-pinched her, and while she was unconscious, filled her mind with visions of wonderful sex between them. Hopefully she would consider it the best she'd ever (supposedly) had and be satisfied with it, seeing no need to pursue him for more.

It wasn't easy for Spock to do it, but he considered it infinitely preferable to going through the genuine article with someone he did not care for. Of course, there was still a danger that she would want more, and hoped his luck would hold long enough for him to get through that as well without having to endure actual sex with her. No guarantee of that, of course, but he could always hope.

This certainly hadn't been among the things he had expected to do in the line of duty, but he considered it worth the trouble, since Jim would not have been able to nerve-pinch Sapphira, then plant suggestions of incredible eroticism in her mind as he himself had. Not even the incident with the female Romulan Commander had been like this. In spite of the attraction between them, there had been no actual physical joining there, either. Spock had sensed that she would have liked nothing better, but he had had other things on his mind.

Sapphira was something else again. From what Pietro had told him, she made even the female Romulan look like a pussycat. For this reason (among others), the Vulcan hoped that Sapphira had gotten her lust out of her system, because he didn't want to go through another such experience again if he didn't have to... not even for Jim. He was also unable to openly criticize Sapphira's treatment of Christine, but did intend to speak to Pietro at the first opportunity to find out how she was. He regretted the necessity of what he was doing and planned to make it up to Christine as soon as he could. The remainder of the twelve hours could not pass soon enough for him.

four

The slaves and mistresses retired to their apartments again after breakfast. Feeling as she did, Christine was grateful for it...and for the strong arms around her as Pietro tried to comfort her upon their arrival behind closed doors—but she refused him when he tried to kiss her.

He tried to be understanding, knowing it was not a personal slight, but Christine was so gentle, kind and beautiful that he couldn't help but want her. For her sake, he hoped that Spock wasn't using her. Pietro had noticed the way her eyes lingered on the Vulcan whenever he was in her vicinity, tenderness yet profound sadness in their blue depths. If Spock didn't appreciate the deep love this extraordinary woman bore for him and didn't feel for her in return, then he seriously questioned the man's sanity.

"I know it's nothing personal, Christine, but surely you know how I feel about you. Spock must have told you...but you won't let me kiss you or touch you other than what's strictly necessary." The hurt in his voice brought her head up to face him.

"I'm sorry to hurt you, Pietro, but I cannot respond to you as you would like. Spock is the one I love—the only one I want to have kiss me or touch me. He has been for years, and I believe he will always be. It's not fair to even begin to compare the two of you. Spock is unlike any man I've ever known. I doubt there's anyone in the Galaxy to equal him. As things stand now, I can only be your friend. I'm sorry for wasting your time and mine. One such as you deserves better than leavings."

The tone of Christine's voice told her companion that it wouldn't do him any good to try to get any further personal information regarding Spock out of her. It seemed that she was fiercely loyal to Spock, however he treated her, and nothing and no one could shake it.

He said instead, "May I at least sit on the couch with you and hold you as we talk?"

Christine smiled again and nodded. "That's the least I can do for you."

"Thank you." He returned the smile.

"No. Thank you."

They moved into the living room and onto the couch. Christine rested her head on Pietro's broad chest, surprised to hear the beat of his heart under her ear. She was used to feeling Spock's heartbeat under her hand, since it was located in his upper right abdomen. She clamped down hard on the images and depression which came to mind at the thought of him.

Pietro tried to make her feel better by holding her tighter and stroking her hair, but it didn't seem to help. Her depression only increased, and his heart ached for her and his inability to ease her black mood. There was only one person from whom she would accept love and consolation...
and that person was presently denied to her.

However much Pietro tried, he was a poor substitute for Spock—a poor substitute for the man his temporary mistress loved. He envied Spock such a woman, because he couldn't be sure if he would ever have the opportunity to find one like her. He doubted Sapphira would ever release him, but if she did, he intended to do all he could to find another like Christine and wed her...then have children, if possible.

After a time, Christine fell asleep. Pietro held her as she slept, tears misting his eyes as he smelled her fragrant hair and felt her head, heavy on his chest. How could such a woman have come into his life, yet belong to another?

Pietro made a mental note to have a talk with Spock about his companion, and if the Vulcan was using her, he would have some choice words for him—and they wouldn't be pleasant ones. Christine had done nothing to deserve the pain she was enduring, and Spock had no right to inflict it on her, whatever his so-called motivation.

Pietro held Christine this way for several hours; they didn't even go to lunch. All the better, he thought. Let Spock and Sapphira think what they like. If the Vulcan didn't know Christine any better than that, he deserved to lose her. Pietro preferred to be alone with Christine, anyway...
and they would not be disturbed—which suited him just fine. He was going to enjoy her as long as he could, and to blazes with what anyone else (including Spock) thought!

Spock and Sapphira were indeed bothered by Christine and Pietro's failure to appear at lunch, but for different reasons. The other woman had devised a particularly diabolical scheme to pay Christine back for the torture she believed the latter had made her endure the first night. Fortunately for Christine, Sapphira was unable to carry it out because her intended victim was not present. This fact not only spoiled her day, but her appetite.

Spock hardly noticed that Sapphira was off her feed. He was more concerned with Christine and what she and Pietro might be doing. The Vulcan knew how Pietro felt about Christine, so his apprehension grew into fear, and that fear into sheer terror. There were still six of the twelve hours left, and how he was going to get through them, Spock had no idea.

He could not go check on them and possibly invade their privacy, mainly because of Sapphira, but Christine would not engage in physical love with Pietro. She couldn't! Her desire for him was great, but tempered by an equally great love. The most she could possibly feel for Pietro (if anything) was the same as what Sapphira felt for him, the Vulcan was certain of that.

Sapphira's impatient voice brought him back to reality. "Spock! Spock, I am speaking to you!"

Spock lifted his head to meet her furious eyes. "Yes, mistress?"

"What were you thinking of that you didn't hear me until now?"

It was hard to know what to say that wouldn't either get him in trouble or be an outright lie, but Spock knew he had to think of something...and fast!

He finally said, "Simply wondering what Pietro and my regular mistress are doing."

"Probably the same as we have been doing, my handsome one. And now that we have eaten, let us go do more of the same."

Her eyes raked lasciviously over his body and she licked her lips in such a way that Spock half expected her to drool. The idea turned his stomach, and he fought off nausea. Desire was one thing, love quite another. Both were difficult to feel, much less admit to, for one such as he—but what Spock felt now was neither of those things. Yet he dared not let her know this if he wanted to come through this encounter with the mission accomplished and himself intact.

"Very well, mistress," he made himself say as they left the Women's Pavilion and headed back to her apartment. May Surak give me the strength to endure this, the Vulcan thought as he preceded her.

Ordinarily this was unheard of, but Sapphira wanted the chance to feast her eyes on the half-alien's incredible body. Spock had prepared himself, so he was ready once Sapphira (however inadvertently) gave him another opportunity to avoid having to join with her.

After again rendering her unconscious, he again filled her mind with more imaginary eroticism between them, along with the suggestion that the reason her neck would hurt was because of all the strenuous activity they had supposedly engaged in. Still, the situation made Spock feel like a piece of meat instead of a person.

Sapphira didn't care about him; she only wanted his body. Christine desired him, certainly, but she also loved him, the person he was. His feelings mattered more to her than her own—and most importantly, she allowed him to take the initiative in their encounters instead of being the aggressor, as Sapphira was.

These things were what changed Spock's attitude toward Christine once and for all...and if the truth be told, it also changed his heart, but it would be a long time before he admitted it—either to her or himself.

After moving Sapphira off him, Spock lay awake beside her, hungering for Christine and her love. Was this how Pietro had felt after his encounters with Sapphira? A physical joining was meaningless without love...and there was love between Christine and himself now, even if he chose not to acknowledge or admit it.

Spock had no idea when it had happened and didn't care. All he knew was that it existed, and would exist for as long as they both lived. The best he could hope for now was the chance to make up for all the times he had hurt and neglected Christine, do all in his power to make her happy, love her as she deserved. With that thought in mind, the Vulcan put himself into a sleep-trance and blessed oblivion for the next several hours.

Spock was thankful that Sapphira was a heavy sleeper; he could never have slipped away from her so easily otherwise. He and Pietro passed each other without speaking, the other man glaring at him before disappearing into Sapphira's apartment. Spock wondered why, but had no time to dwell on it. It was time to get back to Christine. He had left half an hour early, if only to have a short time alone with Christine before dinner. He owed this to them both...and it would suit him just fine if he was never near Sapphira again.

The Vulcan arrived at the apartment he shared with Christine in record time, entering quietly. He didn't find her in the outer rooms, so he decided to see if she was still in the bedroom. As he neared the bed, he saw that her eyes were swollen and red, her face tear-streaked. She had been crying in her sleep—and Spock could guess why. Perhaps this was the reason Pietro had glared at him. It touched him deeply, and the Vulcan was determined to erase her pain any way he could...if he could.

There was enough room for him to slide into bed beside her, so he slipped out of his sandals and slave outfit before changing into a nightshirt, taking her into his arms to kiss her wet cheeks and stroke her hair soothingly. Christine was in the midst of a dream of this very thing, cursing as she felt herself ready to awaken.

Not fair—not fair! One always seemed to awaken in the middle of beautiful dreams. Her eyelids fluttered, catching a glimpse of someone (presumably Pietro) sitting beside her, then closed again. Just a few more minutes... She came fully awake at the feel of warm lips kissing her eyelids.

"Pietro?" she murmured sleepily.

"No, Christine," came a beloved voice. "I have returned."

Her eyes flew open in delighted shock. "Spock--? Spock!" She began crying again, this time with happiness, as she covered his face with kisses. "Oh, my love, I missed you so!"

And I have missed you, the Vulcan thought, inwardly smiling as she hugged the stuffing out of him...but he hardly minded.

"I was so worried about you—and it didn't help that Sapphira paraded you around in front of me. I don't know what I'd have done without Pietro."

"I...am glad he was here for you," was the quiet reply. "Did you have a pleasant sojourn with him?"

"It was nice, but I think I bugged him."

"'Bugged' him?"

"I wouldn't let him do anything."

"Why not?"

"Look in the mirror, Mister. That's why not."

Spock was both pleased and ashamed to hear this. If he hadn't deserved this woman before, he certainly didn't deserve her now. "I am sorry I was unable to return the favor."

"You had no choice in the matter, Spock. We both agreed on that...but knowing that didn't make it any easier for me to endure seeing you with her."

"Is that why you cried?" He brushed one wet cheek with his fingertips. "Perhaps that is why Pietro looked at me the way he did as we passed one another in the hall outside Sapphira's suite."

Christine's eyes widened. "In what way?"

"As if I had committed a mortal sin against you."

"I'm sorry. I never meant for it to happen."

"You have nothing to apologize for. If anyone should apologize, it should be me."

"What for?"

"For Sapphira, and the way I have treated you over the years."

Christine gave him an impish grin. "Now that you mention it, yes, you should apologize for that. Thank you. Now we can start fresh."

"As friends, or as what we have been here?" he asked.

"What have we been here?" she questioned.

"You do not know?"

"We've been playing mistress and slave, for one thing..." She was cut off in mid-sentence as their eyes met.

"What else?" he almost purred.

Her eyes widened. "...and playing being lovers," she finished softly.

"And lovers," he repeated.

"You want us to be lovers? For real?" She sounded incredulous.

"You object to the idea?" His face hardened.

"No, of course not. I was just surprised. It's not something I ever expected to hear from you. We've never been more than friends. And don't do this just to please me. You've got to want it, too."

"I would not ask if I did not want it." He sounded almost indignant.

"What about when we're back on the ship?"

"We will concern ourselves with that when the time comes. Meanwhile, I believe we have a large amount of 'lost time' to make up for." Again, his velvety baritone sounded like a purr.

"Twelve hours isn't that much."

"I am referring to the years we have wasted," he corrected. "But we can make up for that first, if you like."

"Spock, it's time for dinner," she told him, looking at the bedside chrono.

"I am not hungry," he replied. "At least not for food." His voice lowered as he put a hand on her cheek, dark eyes soft with love—and warm with something else. "Could we not...forego...the evening meal tonight? I would rather be with you." To reinforce his wish, he gathered her close and gave her a deep, lingering kiss.

"I—suppose we could...skip it...this once." She was breath less when he released her. "I'm not hungry, either. Not now." She sighed happily. "May I know what happened during the twelve hours we were apart?"

Spock's face hardened again. "You are all I am concerned with at the moment."

Christine smiled and kissed his nose. "Thank you, my love, but I still want to know what happened."

He sighed. "Very well. We shall discuss it—on one condition."

"What condition?"

"That we postpone the discussion until tomorrow."

"If you say so."

"I say so. No more talking. Now is the time to sleep. Good night."

-------------------

Sapphira wasn't pleased at finding Spock gone upon awakening on the evening of the fifth day, but managed to satisfy herself with Pietro after dinner. Neither had Pietro been surprised that Spock and Christine hadn't appeared for dinner. Perhaps he had been wrong about Spock...but still intended to have a talk with the Vulcan at the first opportunity.

Christine had been hurt enough. He and Spock, if proved sincere, must work together to keep unpleasant incidents to a minimum—for both her and the Vulcan. Meanwhile, preparations were being made for the bi-weekly orgy, also held in the Women's Pavilion, since it was the largest room in the living complex. Pietro had to wonder if Christine would manage to get Spock to come, since the Argelian/Italian knew that Vulcans weren't into public displays, particularly not public displays of sex.

It was about 2400 when Spock and Christine awakened, simply lying together holding each other. His cheek rested on the top of her head, which was cradled on his shoulder. They were quiet for a time, each savoring the other's closeness, until Christine lifted her head and looked up at him.

"Spock?" she asked softly.

"Yes?" came the half-drowsy answer from beside her.

"Will you tell me what happened with you and Sapphira now?"

"Can you not guess?" His voice was a mixture of annoyance and disgust. "Fortunately, I thought of a way to both...fulfill my—obligation and still accomplish our mission without having to actually join with Sapphira." His voice lightened.

"What did you do?" Christine wondered, laughing after Spock told her. "She certainly had it coming...and from what you said, she'll never know that you never actually joined with her. Even at that, it doesn't sound like much fun."

"It was not—but that is often the way of necessary things."

How right you are, my love, Christine thought, but said, "I know...and I'm glad it's behind us now."

"As am I." He gave her a half-smile and drew her close. "Now we may concentrate on each other." With that, the couple shared a good-night kiss and drifted off to sleep again.

It was business as usual the morning of the sixth day, with one exception. Spock made a point of seeking out Pietro and finding out what he had supposedly done that had made Christine cry and the other man glare at him.

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" Pietro's tone was ominous. "You may regret it."

"Let me be the judge of that," Spock returned. "I wish to know."

Pietro sighed. "Very well, but don't say I didn't warn you."

He went on to relay to Spock what all had transpired while he was with Christine, Sapphira's treatment of her, and how much he'd wanted her, yet she had refused him. The closest he had come was holding her as she slept after having poured out her heart about Spock. The tears had come later, after Pietro had fallen asleep.

"It hurt me to see her cry, Spock—and cry because of you. I hope you aren't using Christine; otherwise you'd answer to me. She deserves better."

"I assure you, Pietro, that I am not 'using' her. You have my word as a Vulcan...and Vulcans are not in the habit of lying."

"Does that mean you have come to—love her?"

The Vulcan's only response was a stiff nod.

Pietro sensed that that was as much as he was going to get out of Spock regarding his feelings for Christine, so he contented himself with that. But now that that was behind them, there was something else he needed to say.

"Are you aware that there is to be an orgy tomorrow evening after dinner?"

The Vulcan's eyes widened and he turned pale.

"Do you know what it involves? If not, I can explain."

"Unnecessary," Spock told him. "It is a ritual in which several people engage in...public sex."

"That's essentially it," Pietro agreed. "I know Vulcans don't approve of public demonstrativeness, so it will probably be very difficult for you."

"Would I have to—engage in sex with different women?" the Vulcan asked.

"Most men choose to remain with their mistresses," was the reply.

"Then I will consider it...as long as I may remain with Christine."

"Does she know about the orgy?"

"I do not know. I would have to ask her."

"I also suggest that the two of you be as rested as possible. It may go on for many hours."

"Are you allowed to leave if you choose?"

"I believe so, but it is rarely done—at least by Sapphirans. Humans and Vulcans no doubt have different beliefs."

"We do," Spock confirmed. "So do not be surprised if Christine and I do not stay long."

"You must stay at least two hours," Pietro informed him. "But after that, you're free to leave if you wish. That is, if you aren't...well...engaged."

Spock fought off a blush as he answered. "We must return to our mistresses now. I will see you later, Pietro."

They picked up the food trays and headed for the kitchen door.

"Later, Spock."

The Enterprise returned in the early morning of the seventh day, about 0500; Kirk contacted Spock and they had a lengthy conversation about all that had happened on their respective missions, the Vulcan conducting his end of it from the bedroom of the planetside apartment he shared with Christine as she lay beside him, deeply asleep. The two kept their voices down in order not to disturb her. The mission had been almost as difficult for her as it had for Spock, and sleep was one of the few ways she could relax, even for a little while.

The Captain was also concerned about how Spock and Christine were holding up; the Vulcan assured him that they were doing as well as could be expected under the circumstances. All the same, Kirk was certain that there was a lot Spock wasn't telling him, vowing to have a talk with his alien friend about the Sapphiran mission at the first opportunity, but for the moment held his peace. Near the end of the conversation, the Captain made Spock promise to let him know if they needed help at any time during the latter half of the mission.

"Thank you, Jim. I shall keep it in mind," the First Officer replied, his voice quiet and laced with mixed gratitude and affection.

"Take care, my friend, and give my best to Christine. I'll see you both when you get back. Let me know, too, when you're ready to return to the ship." Kirk's voice was laced with equal affection.

"I will do so. Spock out." He felt his companion's movements and knew she would soon awaken.

"Talk to you later, Spock. Kirk out."

The Vulcan closed his communicator and set it on the bedside table even as Christine yawned, stretched, and sat up.

"Is the ship here?" she asked upon meeting his eyes. "I was sure I heard Captain Kirk's voice."

"Yes. I just finished speaking with Jim. The Enterprise returned approximately half an hour ago."

Christine sighed with relief. "Thank God. That way, we can call on them if we need help."

"Indeed," the Vulcan concurred with a half-smile.

Christine then swung out of bed, throwing the covers off and rummaging in her travel bag for a fresh set of clothes. Another half-hour later, both were bathed and dressed, heading out to start another day. Meanwhile, she was curious to know what Kirk and Spock had discussed, but decided not to pressure him for information, telling herself that Spock would tell her if he thought she should know.

A short time later, Spock discovered that Christine had also been told of the upcoming orgy, assuring her that he was as prepared as she was. She doubted it, but saw no point in arguing with him. They were going to have enough to endure without that.

The following evening, after the dinner dishes had been cleared away and everything washed, the Pavilion was set up with couches, beds, and anything else one could lie on in preparation for the coming night's activity. Because he was among the strongest, the Vulcan had been pressed into service to set up the couches, beds and such. He could only hope the spot he and Christine ended up wasn't too public, though he didn't expect to have much choice in the matter.

The men who had assisted in the set-up were allowed to bathe and change, as were the women—and the orgy began promptly at 2100 hours, ship's time. It started out with simple touches and kisses, but soon graduated to all-out sex with all the accompanying sound effects.
The most Spock and Christine had done was kiss and touch, although they were lying together on a large, soft couch in a secluded corner of the room. The intensity of emotion from the others in the room was as much as the Vulcan's mental shields could stand. After a time, he whispered to Christine.

"Please, let us leave. Do not make me do this in public."

"I'm sorry, Spock, but we must stay at least two hours." Her tone was apologetic even as he felt her lips brush his ear. "Try not to think of them. Think only of me." She raised his hand to her face; his fingers automatically assumed the mind-meld position shortly before he felt her warm breath in his ear.

He shivered, finding it difficult to concentrate on the meld when her lips found his...but with her help, he managed. It was a long time before either of them spoke again—and when he did, it was a mere whisper against her lips.

"Christine..."

"Beloved..."

She silenced him with an almost unbearably sweet and exciting kiss upon their breaking off the meld. Spock could not think, but only feel. The couple soon became lost in each other's arms, oblivious to the passage of time as well as to the goings-on around them.

They awakened two hours later, still intricately entwined, even though the pair had not made love, since they were still dressed—but the temptation had been great. It was quiet in the darkened room except for hushed breathing, occasional snores and sounds of movement. Their couch made no noise as the couple got to their feet. After they stood up, the Vulcan headed for the door with his Human companion cradled in his arms.

Upon arrival at their apartment, the pair made a beeline for the bedroom, thankful for its blessed privacy. It was dark, but Spock needed no lights to find his way because of his excellent night vision due to life on moonless Vulcan, coupled with his photographic memory.

Once they were settled again, he kissed his companion softly and whispered, "This is better, is it not?"

"Much," she agreed, a smile in her voice.

"Would you like to sleep now?"

"As long as you're with me."

"I am not going anywhere," he assured her. "Sleep well, Christine."

Upon awakening on the eighth day, their routine returned to normal...or as normal as it was possible for them to be in such a place and situation as this. The euphoric state from their time alone in the apartment bedroom following the orgy lasted the entire morning and afternoon.

Christine either stroked Spock's cheek, kissed his hand or nose, or he smiled at her as he lifted her glass so she could drink, his dark eyes soft as they looked upon her: nor did the couple bother their heads about how Sapphira must have felt upon seeing them doing this. Of course, she wouldn't understand the tenderness shown because she had never experienced love—and until and unless she cleaned up her act, it was unlikely that she ever would.